To Make You Mine
by Soul Sniper 1324
Summary: Sherlock has everything. Intelligence. Handsomeness. Killer cheekbones. Everything except what he most longs for. He doesn't understand his true feelings at first but he does know that every time John Watson leaves his sight his heart aches. To make sure that it never happens again, Sherlock is determined to make the doctor his. After all, they're going to stay together forever
1. To Live Without You

(A/N): I'm not totally sure about everyone's names and I really just want to focus on their relationship so there are gonna be a lot of OC's in here so I hope that you don't mind. Also anyone willing to help edit, please DM me! I am a struggling writer in need! Anyway hope you enjoy!

xXx

"How do soulmates know that they are soulmates? And what if they never met? What would happen-"

"One question at a time please!" Her soft chuckle quieted the small boy sitting in anticipation.

"Well, it might seem quite strange...but no matter what age you are... it will only be a matter of time before you meet your soulmate..."

xXx Sherlock (About 10:15 at night)

"Lestrade... LESTRADE!"

"What goddamnit what?!" Lestrade removed his glasses before rubbing his eyes tiredly. They had been there for hours, even though it was already 10pm, they were keeping Sherlock from doing anything stupid. He was acting downright hysterical after being bored for only a few hours. They had convinced him to try solving puzzles but he had already solved everyone of the books that they had laying around the place. Lestrade's poor assistant Laura had to run out and buy five copies just to appease the frustrated man. Lestrade had argued for her to buy at least ten and even offered to pay but she had refused and said, "Surely this will keep him occupied long enough for a new case to arrive."

Oh how wrong she was. It took him a mere 15 minutes to go through every page of the five "IMPOSSIBLE PUZZLES" books. She was, to say the least, unhappy with the situation.

Sherlock instead put his focus into the little secret Laura had asked him to figure out about her fiancé. The results were far from satisfying.

"Get that bastard out of here now or I swear to GOD-" Sherlock had obviously hit a nerve. He had never seen Laura mad nonetheless fuming as she currently was. Lestrade looked over her shoulder at the culprit who was calmly sitting on one of the bland red couches with his legs crossed on top of the coffee table in front of him. He held one of the puzzle books in his hand and pretended to read.

As if he had just noticed that Lestrade was watching him he waved mockingly whilst flaunting a handsome grin. Lestrade sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"What did he do this time?"

Laura, nostrils flared, nearly losing it, shouted, "That ARSE thought it'd be funny to make the absolute ridiculous accusation that my boyfriend and soon to be husband as a matter of fact, is a part time male stripper!" Laura had her fists firmly clenched at her sides, slightly shaking.

Lestrade coolly held back a laugh by instead turning to the for once distracted Sherlock Holmes. Lestrade calmly walked over to the reason his assistant is in such hysterics.

Gritting his teeth he growled, "Sherlock? Out. Now."

Sherlock looked up from his oh so interesting puzzle book and pouted. His eyes seemed even more piercing than they usually were but at the same time showed vulnerability and plead. With a sigh he calmly took his feet off of the coffee table and closed his eyes. He placed the book over his eyes and leaned back against the uncomfortable couch.

"I was simply stating a fact. She was the one to ask me to figure out her fiancé's secret and I have. I think I deserve more than a demand to leave." Sherlock had moved from his ridiculous position into a more calm and posed one. He crossed his arms and held a look with Lestrade as if asking 'So what exactly did I do wrong again?'. He smirked.

Growling, Lestrade sighed and relieved Laura. She gladly took her bag and coat. Before leaving she shot a quick glare at Sherlock before frantically dialing her fiancé.

"Ahahahaha!" Sherlock couldn't stop himself from laughing. So she was convinced, she had a great poker face but in the end, Sherlock always wins. Lestrade allowed himself a chuckle before making him and the hysterical man a steaming pot of tea.

"You really are an arse you know?"

Lestrade handed the mug labeled 'BOSS' to the amused looking detective who gladly took the Earl Grey.

"Yes but you do have to admit. That was quite amusing." After a few more cups of tea, Sherlock opened his laptop and completed filling out the case files he had recently done. He soon caught the sun rising and with it people began to appear slow at first but accumulating over time.

Stretching his fingers, Sherlock closed the laptop. Through the light he was able to make out the sleeping figure of Lestrade next to him. Getting up he decided to go to the Morgue that was conveniently nearby.

"I wonder..."

xXx John (About 8:40 in the morning)

"What would you like sweety?" The obviously gay man shifted as he waited for the veteran to answer. His dark skin contrasted the bright yellow highlighter that he had placed on his cheekbones that morning, with little to no experience in the act as the highlighter was neither blended nor flattering in any way. His shaved, green hair was distracting and almost a turn away for any company willing to hire. He obviously had experience though with the way he had immediately taken out a personal notepad and pen the second he had approached John's two seater table. The easy talking and patient man took no sweat in grabbing the man's attention once more.

"Anything suit your fancy?" The waiter said placing his hand on the blonde's.

John quickly took his hand back and looked away from his waiter before stuttering.

"S-sorry. Earl Grey please." John, avoiding eye contact, handed the waiter his menu and folded his hands on the table. He looked out the window partly in embarrassment but mostly in fascination.

He often wondered what kind of life others led. What kind of past they held leading up to the point of them simply walking across the street to catch a job interview. He was so caught in his imagination he barely made out the waiter taking his leave with a quick, "Alright we'll have that right out for you."

He didn't usually ignore people, it was rude, but at that moment he didn't see it as necessary as it once was.

A noise and vibration of the table caught his attention. Startled he looked towards the culprit and saw his waiter walking away, leaving behind a steaming mug filled to the brim with strong tea. Carefully, he took the mug into his hands, blowing gently at the seemingly endless bellows of steam. The air he blew across the top of the mug sent ripples threatening to spill over the rounded edge of the plain colored mug.

Deeming his efforts unhelpful, he set the cup down and decided to look outside once more. Widening his eyes he took his hand down from his chin and in his haste to get outside, he spilled his precious tea with an unflattering bump of the table.

Not thinking, he quickly ran across the small room and threw himself through the double doors and onto the sidewalk.

Forgetting his Earl Grey. Forgetting his flirty waiter. Forgetting his cane.

He couldn't think about anything else and at the moment he was completely focused on what was happening a few feet ahead of him.

For once he didn't think about anything else. He felt exhilarated and almost free of his boring life. That is, before he realized he had ran straight into traffic, and straight into the path of a car traveling 80 kilometers per hour.

He didn't even have a chance to blink before-

xXx Sherlock POV (About 8:20 in the morning)

SLAP! WHACK!

It was becoming tiresome whipping the corpses. And yet I kept at it. My arms began to feel the wear of time spent whacking dead things over and over again.

(Italics=thoughts)

No bruises.

Experiment nowhere near over. So many variables. Too many to count. I'm sure I can confirm my hypothesis at a later date but at this moment I am tired of wasting precious energy on dead things.

I set the bull whip down and wipe my brow with the back of my sleeve. My palms had grown sweaty from being constricted in the latex gloves I had half-hazardly thrown on hours ago. I take a look at my work.

No result and at this point blatantly uninteresting and not worth my time.

I take off the rest of the surgical equipment that had found its way onto me after awhile of work and quickly threw the disposable mask and apron away.

Looking around I wondered what to do now. I was practically free at the moment and yet had nothing to use this new found freedom for.

I grab my laptop and head out the door, at this point I guess it would be best to look for a flat. Lestrade was probably getting tired of me annoying him for the past week. Before heading out the door I look across the street through the glass embedded door.

Something seemed to snap in me because before I knew it I was out the door, dropping my laptop in the heat of the moment.

Damnit... What exactly is going on here?!

xXx

(A/N): Okay guys I'm going to try to keep the chapters shorter this time around so bare with me. I will also be updating more frequently as coffee has been helping me stay up to 4am every day... or night? Anyway I hope you enjoyed!

ATTENTION!: Anyone wanting to edit or help me out in anyway just dm me and you've got the job! But seriously I do need some help getting these chapters just right.


	2. To Save You

(A/N): Hey guys! Back with another chapter, hope you enjoy!

xXx

"Mom? Why does dad hate me?" The boy's young and innocent eyes gleamed with the start of another tearful evening.

"Your father does NOT hate you... He just doesn't know how to accept you..."

xXx Sherlock's POV

Earlier that day when I was experimenting I hadn't noticed the amount of people that started to encircle most of the block.

Fingers were pointed. 999's were dialed. And chaos erupted with the sound of nearing sirens.

"What the hell..." I whispered to myself. After fighting through the crowd I was able to make out the figure of a woman at the top of the building just next to the one I was just in.

Faint whispers were passed around in shared unison and understanding, "Bloody hell... What in the actual fuck?... Oh my god is she going to jump?!"

Thinking fast I look around. A blonde man wearing a rather large beige blazer over a simple white T burst through the coffee shop doors, desperation written over his face. In the distance I hear a faint screeching of tires as a car revs trying to get back the time that the red light he was just at took.

Oh God... That man is going to get hit.

Looking back towards the now running man who is in no way going to beat the car traveling towards them, I made my decision and in those few seconds so much happened.

The blonde made it to the space in front of the almost speeding car. His face showed the same wrinkles of desperation but at that moment there was no fear which greatly intrigued me.

He had finally noticed his current situation, being there a car mere feet away speeding towards him and his current position giving him little chance of coming out of it uninjured.

I took my chance and grabbed the man's outstretched hand and yanked. With the man's unstable position he was sent tumbling towards me. His limp became more apparent and in the heat of the moment I caught the other side of his body with my free hand brought him close.

My pulse beat rapidly as I watched, almost in slow motion, the driver turn sharply and nearly crash into the coffee shop the man had left mere seconds ago.

I sigh in relief as time returns to normal and my actions catch up with me. My arms quickly release the stunned man and return to my coat pockets.

He looks at me in relief and before he can say anything I cut him off.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

His expression turned from relief into an eyebrow raise. I smirk.

"Pardon-?"

"Afghanistan or Iraq? It's a yes or no question no need for pardons."

"I understand I-I just... How did you know?"

"No time for that, there's a case just calling my name right now. Here...", I hand him a business card Lestrade made me carry around. "We can chat later. Well then I must be off."

I make my escape towards the building and quickly devise a plan on my way up the stairs.

xXx John's POV

What in the bloody hell just happened exactly?

I quickly gather myself and look at the card before coming to a realization. Before I know what's gotten into myself I sprint towards the double glass doors that the man had entered a few seconds earlier.

The place, although very clean, was deserted. I wondered what had gone down to make an entire building just clear out. I was starting to get very suspicious as to what this really was.

My feet worked faster than they probably had since coming back. It was probably just the adrenaline rush but I couldn't help but notice that my limp and pain were nowhere to be found.

Reached the end of my ascent, I slowed down before stopping right at the door labeled, 'ROOF'. My heart was pumping hard and as the silence crept on, my heartbeat had become ear splitting.

"Bloody hell..."

I finally got the courage and opened the door. Looking around the top of the building I saw nothing but the same grey bumpy texture all over the floor. I took a few hesitant steps forward sure that the man and suicidal woman were just around the corner.

Where did they go?

Before I could take another step I heard the familiar click of a handgun.

xXx Sherlock's POV

"Turn around." My voice was almost muffled by the continuous heavy breeze that flew past me. After waiting for a moment she submitted and carried out my command.

Her pink turtle-neck sweater and blue jean skirt made her look younger than her true age. There was a necklace of sorts around her neck and it was well worn as evident from the stripped of paint chain it resided on.

Her head was down with her face covered by her long auburn hair. Her arms were outstretched and shaking. In fact her whole body was shaking. She looked frightened.

But looks can be deceiving.

I knew what was going on.

"Oh stop pretending you low-class attention whore. You're starting to scare people."

Her head whipped up, a devilish grin followed. Her dark brown eyes showed no mercy or emotion of any kind.

Her bright pink lipstick began to wrinkle as she lowly chuckled. I calmly crossed my arms before hearing a click behind me. Sighing, I put my hand up to my face in absolute boredom.

This girl just won't give up will she?

"Amanda this has gone on long enough. Take that disgusting wig off and tell Lestrade hi for me won't you?"

She didn't move. Her chuckling instead began to increase in volume and began to sound more like Amanda with every high pitched manic laugh she choked out.

I rolled my eyes and didn't take another second before calling out her as equally psychotic boyfriend Allen.

"Allen. Would you be a dear and put that gun away? I don't want your girlfriend here getting hurt do you?" Without hesitation I pull out my concealed firearm and aim it at Amanda.

I finally turn to face him and was actually surprised to see him have that blonde from earlier in a head lock and coincidentally he also had a gun to the man's head.

I felt like pulling the trigger to just end my headaches and their annoying antics. But I was feeling generous so I gave him a chance to respond.

"Last warning Allen. Put. Down. The. Gun." I didn't feel like playing anymore. The situation was becoming dangerous. I didn't care about other people dying but for once the blonde man was just too damn interesting.

I guess he followed me but that doesn't matter. I turn my full attention to him and immediately I felt my whole body go numb. His gaze still had no fear whatsoever. Oh this guy is just too interesting.

I hear sirens getting closer and before I knew it, they were right below us.

Time was up.

I watched the blonde as he all of a sudden slammed the back of his head against Allen's and in the moment of distress caused him to let go of his leverage and his weapon. The blonde without hesitation rolled away, gun in hand.

"Well this was fun Allen, Amanda. I do hope that you have fun in that psych ward you keep escaping from. In the meantime, I'll be off."

I lower my gun from Amanda and in the same second the police smashed through the door.

"DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!"

I refuse to obey since I have little to no respect for them. They don't seem to mind anyway. I make my way through the action and stand over the cop roughly dragging the blonde out.

"He's with me. Come on blondey."

The officer looked suspicious before saying, "You don't have the authority to-"

"He does, go ahead Sherlock." Lestrade proved himself useful for once.

The embarrassed officer quickly uncuffed him and with a tilt of a hat, took his leave.

With a sigh I waited until the officers were down the stairs before I looked at my new found interest.

His face still held the shocked but somewhat exhilarated expression that he had carried most of that night. Without hesitation he grabbed my arm violently and nearly shouted, "What in fucks name just happened?"

xXx

(A/N): Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed!


	3. To Become A Guinea Pig

~5 days Later 8:45 am~

Sherlock never really gave his doctor an explanation but after a quick few chats with Lestrade and Mycroft, John soon figured it out for himself.

"Sherlock... This is the second time that there's been a head in the fridge."

They had moved into a flat together and Sherlock didn't see a need to spare him of his most gruel experiments. First there was an ear that John had thrown out. Wrong decision. But after awhile the body parts in the fridge became a daily occurrence and for the time being he could tolerate it.

"It's for an experiment John. Of all people you should know that."

John sighed and closed the fridge. Seriously this guy can too much sometimes.

"Well yes I do know that but seriously, you have enough pounds. Go buy a separate mini fridge. I don't want to wake up one morning to an ear in my cereal."

Sherlock was done arguing. He had already closed his eyes and sat in his 'thinking chair'. John knew he wouldn't change his ways but it was worth a try. After fixing two teas he went over to the couch and before sitting down quickly gave Sherlock his mug.

John was still upset but he was still a decent man. Whenever he made tea he made sure that whomever else was in the room was at least offered some. Sherlock seemed to be in his mind state so John didn't even bother asking.

~20 min later~

After finishing the latest entry to his blog, John had realized that he reached the bottom of his mug. He sighed and went to go retrieve some more but was stopped by an outstretched foot.

He raised his eyebrow at the silent detective. Sherlock still seemed to be in his mind place but he had at some point finished the tea John had made earlier.

Chuckling, John took the mug and shuffled over to the pot. He figured Sherlock was still stuck over their current case which involved two men, a shotgun wound to one's head barely missing the most vital parts, and the other being absolutely ripped to shreds.

Scotland Yard got there first thanks to heavy traffic, keeping John and Sherlock from professionally analyzing the scene, meaning the crime scene was severely tampered with. With things left and right placed in little plastic evidence baggies, Sherlock was no less than fuming when he discovered what they had done.

He practically called all of Scotland Yard 'Misguided idiots that need to reconsider a job that didn't require a minimum amount of intelligence'. John had hard time holding back a laugh at that one.

A smile still plastered at his lips, John began pouring the steaming water into the two mugs. His mind was elsewhere as he accidentally overfilled his own cup.

"Bloody hell!" The boiling water spilled over the edge of the table as well as all over his hand. He quickly set down the kettle, almost dropping it in the process.

The initial heat had subsided but his skin was still on fire and aching. He knew that it would hurt even more later if he didn't treat it then.

Turning to leave the kitchen John was surprised to see Sherlock already prepared with a medical kit in and.

"Oh John, can't handle the heat can we?" His smirk shone through and John was caught off guard. It was a playful and almost teasing one that John had never seen before. Sherlock usually only smirked after lowering the self esteem of Lestrade or anyone that got in his way.

John caught himself after a quick sideways glance by Sherlock. Quickly walking over to Sherlock he sat down, still holding his injured hand with his other.

"Sherlock it's only a slight burn, don't worry it's not even that- BLOODY HELL SHERLOCK WHAT THE HELL?!"

Without warning Sherlock grabs his doctor's hand and applied a strange substance to it. Definitely not Aloe Vera or a burn salve. It had a glossy appearance and a thick slimy texture.

Sherlock, deep in thought and concentration, gently rubbed the substance thoroughly over the wound. John had subconsciously tried to pull his hand back after being startled but found his hand firmly held by Sherlock.

"Sherlock...?" John was starting to get weird sensations down his arms. The solution was generously applied and already worked in and yet Sherlock continued to work it in with every slight swipe of his delicate fingers.

John gave up trying to grab the attention of the detective and worked instead on trying to figure out why Sherlock was being so gentle. With a blush, John realized that that was the first time he had ever seen that side of Sherlock. This was getting too confusing.

"Sherlock... What exactly is that?"

Sherlock looked up with a devious grin. 'Oh this is not going to be good' thought John.

"My latest experiment of course. Does this look like Aloe Vera to you?"

"What?!" John tries to pull back his hand, any experiment done by Sherlock was never good news. "Sherlock!"

"John stay still I want to see if it works. You should be honored I chose you to be my first test subject." John wasn't really Sherlock's first test subject, he had already tested and regularly used the salve himself. He just liked to get a reaction out of him.

"At least tell me what it's supposed to do!"

Sherlock ignored John and instead grabbed his hand with both of his slender fingers and used his thumbs to massage the area. John could not believe this man.

John's eyes widened in surprise. He didn't notice before but his burn no longer hurt. It was as if it never happened. He put down his wall and stopped straining, with an intake of breath he realized that the pain had dissipated just as soon as it had appeared.

John looked at Sherlock in surprise but Sherlock was still at it. Rubbing tenderly at his hand.

It was as if Sherlock himself were in a trance. His fingers soon found a rhythm and never left it. He would swipe with his left thumb and simultaneously rub with his right. Switching between the two as if he were tending to something very dear to him.

After awhile John's hand began to numb from all the rubbing, just as he was about to complain Sherlock released him.

John peered down at his hand and saw that there wasn't even a mark left behind. Whatever kind of salve it was, it had worked. His hand was practically brand new.

"Wow Sherlock... Where'd you get this stuff?"

Sherlock shifted in his seat, he looked bored again and almost uncomfortable at that moment.

Looking away he began putting his utensils away before muttering, "Made it myself. Now try not to get that anywhere near your mouth, it is still a working progress."

John whispered "Wow..." and took out a self adhering wrap as a safety precaution to whatever negative effects the salve could have on him.

"It's not something to wow about John. I am a chemist." Sherlock took notice of John's struggle to wrap himself one-handed. After a disappointing loss against the wrap, John looked to Sherlock for help with a teasing pout.

Without hesitation Sherlock took the band from John and placed John's hand on his thigh getting to work. John was at the least a bit uncomfortable but it was manageable and almost pleasant.

"I would've thought that after being a doctor for your amount of years that you'd be able to bandage yourself by now."

"Easy for you to say. I was just subjected to a mysterious substance that I still don't know the properties of and now I'm being wrapped because you don't either."

Sherlock scowled. Not liking the comment he pulled the bandage hard and cut the end. John sighed, even though they lived together he noticed that they barely interact other than when Sherlock calls him to go to a crime scene.

John didn't hate him but he didn't enjoy the man's devious and slightly rude personality. He had a hard time questioning any victims or suspects as they were all at fault to him which he had come to see very fast.

Sherlock got up and went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Before he got a chance to take any more steps though, John grabbed his hand and stopped him. He wanted to remember this moment but at the time didn't totally understand why.

Sherlock's slightly widened eyes caught John by surprise. The cool grey eyes had an almost hypnotic effect on him. He got lost in his eyes and almost forgot why he had grabbed for the man in the first place.

"I- Thank you... For helping me I mean..."

Sherlock waved his hand back as if saying, 'It was nothing'.

Despite his nonchalant reaction to the situation, Sherlock was in an inner turmoil. His mind working faster than it had ever worked before. He quickly shuffled to his room to try to escape the reason he was acting that way.

He locked himself in his room and covered his face with his hands, breathing hard. Carefully, he stepped over to his small mirror he had in the corner of the room as he had no real concern for appearance.

He analyzed himself which was a change.

There was a faint redness to his warm cheeks as well as his ears. He checked his heart rate and found it almost concerning how fast it was pulsing through his veins.

In a last effort he looked at his eyes...

Dilated. Of course...


End file.
